The Phantom of Gotham ::SOLD::
by penelopewhisp
Summary: What happens when the mysterious Phantom that's been plaguing the streets of Gotham hangs up her cape after a heart to heart with the Batman, only to find herself sold to the clown of Gotham himself? Will she be able to keep her alter ego a secret, or will she be found out and forced to join his team?


The rattling of the metal cuffs drew me from my trance and the sudden scrape of them against my skin began to cause an unsettling sense of unease to rush through my abdomen.

"She'll be waking up soon, let's go." An unfamiliar voice spoke near me, and I feel myself slowly moving away from it in an attempt to feel safe. However, this attempt was rendered useless as soon as a rough pair of hands graced my shoulders, guiding me in a new direction. I started to shiver when the breeze from the night streets of Gotham hit my skin, but as soon as it had come it was suddenly gone; replaced with the smell of stale beer, cologne, and cigarette smoke. What's happening, where am i?

Trembling fingers lift to examine the fabric draped awkwardly around my face, but a tug to the shackles around my wrists stop me and I groan.

"Watch her hands. Don't let her move around too much." The voice spoke again. Is he the leader behind all of this? It's strange, when he spoke the last part it almost sounded as if he viewed me as a dangerous element; worthy of being observed with caution. When in all actuality they were the ones who had taken me.

Suddenly everything stops and I can feel the body of another person behind me and beside me, and it's becoming clear to me that I'm being boxed in. These strangers were making sure that I didn't escape. There's movement near me; careless footsteps of a single person, one that I slowly begin to recognize as a man. Through the dark hood I can feel him tower over me and his dominance was almost as intoxicating as his scent. He gives off an alluring smell like water and gun powder; what a strange combination. I can feel the warmth from his body on my exposed skin and I instantly stop breathing at the tension of it all.

I'm caught off guard by a thunderbolt of laughter shooting from directly in front of my face, and I stumble backwards into the body standing firmly behind me.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The voice is unfamiliar, but it holds a more sinister tone than the one from before. It's raspy and thick like how I'd imagine a wolf would sound.

"Her father owed us some money from a deal we'd made, and instead of paying up he decided to sell us his innocent daughter. We figured that with her being untouched like he told us, we could earn some money off of her in the trade, but after we collected her, you wouldn't believe who paid off her father's debt to have her freed." It's quiet now and I can almost hear the impatience of the more dominant counterpart.

"None other than the infamous Bat of Gotham." The man continued. My eye brows furrowed in confusion of it all; my father had sold me? Distant memories of previous activities from that night gathered together in a blur, and I could feel the features of my face tarnish with disbelief. My father would never sell me. We were together earlier that night. We went to dinner, he paid for me to get my hair done, and even took me to see the lanterns that they let loose every year around this time. This is wrong.

"Batsy." The sinister voice spoke and I can feel his eyes on my hood.

"Yes sir." The man next to me responds.

"Now, why would he go and do a thing like that?" His curiosity radiates throughout the room, but it's no rival to that of my own. Why would Batman do that? He made it clear that he and I were not on the same side. His body is close to mine again except this time his hands rest on the fabric covering my face. He cups my chin while lifting it to his view as if he were appraising me. For a half of a second I can almost swear he sees through the fabric and into my irises, but that's impossible.

"Miss Quinn asked us to bring her here before selling her; said she'd be a gift, to you." The man speaks with no remorse. Me, a gift? Clearly they have no idea who they're dealing with here.

"She's so….thoughtful." The dominant one's voice broke, in a sarcastic form of gratefulness. His fingers released my face, and I couldn't feel the heat from his body anymore.

"Any progress on locating her." His voice was low this time and it held a sense of urgency and care. I could feel him staring past my hood as if seeing something or someone else, and I knew instantly that he wasn't speaking of me.

"No sir." The man behind me answered. "Frost is looking into it now. After the Bat dropped her off and into the custody of the Gotham Police, she disappeared. Word on the street is, a lot of people are starting to disappear."

The dominant one growled and I could sense the tension through the fabric. A chiming sound awoke the room, and a sudden kick to my back sent me flying towards the floor. The swift collide of my front half with the ground sent a groan through my abdomen. It wasn't enough that I was bound, they had to kick me too?

"And she left me this?" He questioned in what sounded like disbelief. Is that who they are looking for? A woman named Miss Quinn? The woman who asked for me to be brought here?

"What else did she say?" The dominant one questioned.

"Just that she wanted her and that having her would pay off." A shuffling of feet takes place and everything is dangerously still once again.

"Let's see what we got?" The dominant one cooed as the fabric was snatched from my face. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room, but the specifics of his face came into view quickly. Honey brown irises fixated on him while ice blue ones studied mine with surprise.

"Who are you?" I finally spoke even though I was fully aware of the identify of my captor. His face reflected an over exaggerated form of offense as my question reached his ears.

"Who? Who? The question is what,….. what am I going to do with you?" He questioned. A sense of fear took hold of me and the deep rooted image behind his eyes worried me.

"Harley's gifts are always a puzzle." He chuckled out and for a moment there was a sense of longing. Furrowed eye brows tarnished my features as I put the name together.

"Harley….Harleen Quinzell?" I corrected and suddenly his eyes went dark. It was silently confirmed and I suddenly began to realize what I was really doing here. Oh shit.


End file.
